Risk & Reward

Table of Contents

• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• From The Author
  

The greater the risk…

Older. Wiser. Hotter. Months after reuniting with the man who loved her—and left her—a decade ago, Tatiana Belikov is determined not to let their wicked games blind her to the danger of repeating history. If that means biting her tongue, so be it. After all, she does get to bite
him
.

Wyatt Caine never thought Tatiana would be back in his cards, but he’s not ready to question his luck. Between the sheets he knows exactly how to make her naughty fantasies come true: rough and tumble, with an extra serving of dirty. Communicating outside of the bedroom? Not always so easy.

The city’s bright lights can’t compare to their passion, burning hot enough to singe them both. But when the harsh glare of reality exposes long-inflicted wounds, Wyatt and Tatiana have to decide if they want to play it safe…or risk it all.

Risk & Reward

by Alisha Rai

Book Two in the Bedroom Games Series

Risk & Reward

Copyright © 2013 by Alisha Rai

Edited by Sasha Knight

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Chapter One

“Get in my car. And take off your clothes.”

Tatiana Belikov gave a jerk of surprise at the low rumble in her ear, fumbling her large handbag. Delight replaced her shock in the next heartbeat. Oh, that voice. That low, gravelly voice alone made her want to strip and wriggle in happiness.

“They told me Vegas was dangerous, but I didn’t realize I’d get accosted the minute I stepped foot off the plane,” she purred.

A large, possessive hand settled on her waist. “You should have. You came here to see me. Accosting beautiful women is my specialty.”

She turned and attempted a frown, though she was too excited to pull it off successfully. “Women, plural?”

The tall, lean man slipped his arm around her. “I misspoke. Woman. Singular. A very singular woman.”

“That’s better.” Unable to keep her cool, her grin broke free, and she stretched up to bring her lips to his answering smile. The kiss was more eager than sexy or seductive, her lips and tongue excited to taste him.

Tatiana hadn’t known it was possible to crave someone as much as she craved Wyatt Caine. Chocolate, yes. A person, no.

Wyatt bent over her, cradling her head and angling her so his tongue could make a deeper foray into her mouth. He hauled her closer to him, until his muscular thigh insinuated itself between her legs. His teeth caught her lower lip, scraping the flesh, sending a shiver down her spine.

She slid her hands down his chest, tugging on his tie. It was dark plum, and one she fondly recalled draped over her bedpost not long ago. Had it also been used to bind her limbs at some point? Maybe blindfold her as he licked his way down her body? Probably. She had a fairly intimate knowledge of his neckwear collection by now. “What are you doing here? You said you had meetings all day.”

“I cancelled one.” He licked her where he’d nipped her, soothing the sting. “I didn’t want to wait until tonight to see you.”

Tonight. The same pang of guilt that had been dogging her for the better part of a day popped up again.
In a second. We can talk about it in a second.
She mock pouted and leaned back. “And you didn’t come meet me inside?”

“Sorry, I ran late, or I would have met you at baggage claim.”

“I had no bags to check.” In the past seven months that they’d been dating, Tatiana had learned there was no point in packing heavy for her visits. Wyatt insisted on keeping her naked for almost the entire trip. Not that she was complaining.

“Good. Saves us time.” He took hold of her carry-on and loosely linked his fingers with hers. “This way.”

Tatiana stole a glance at him as they walked down the long line of limousines and luxury sedans, a small thrill going through her. He was…beautiful. There was no other word to describe him, though as a self-respecting manly man he might balk. He had the face of a fallen angel, all dark and perfectly chiseled. No matter how often he shaved, a faint five o’clock shadow lingered. His lashes were so long, she was surprised they didn’t tangle when he blinked.

His hair shone blue black, the strands cut close to his head. The suit he wore fit him impeccably, outlining his lean and muscular physique. She might get annoyed sometimes that he was so effortlessly attractive when she had to put work and effort into looking good, but then that annoyance was drowned out by the knowledge that he was hers. All hers.

Tatiana smiled at the familiar, fit young man who stood rigidly at attention next to a black limousine. “Sal. Good to see you again.”

The driver’s face was expressionless. As usual. If she ever saw him emote, Tatiana might drop dead of shock.

“Ma’am.” He opened the back door.

Tatiana slid in first, arranging her handbag next to her. Wyatt followed, taking the seat opposite hers. The car was large enough that his long, stretched-out legs didn’t touch her feet, which were primly crossed at the ankles. Still, his presence was so big, the luxurious cabin felt smaller than it should.

She recrossed her legs. “Why’d you bring the limo?” Normally, he sent his town car. The first couple of times she’d visited, she’d booked her own rental car, wanting to have freedom to move around if she wished to.

Having a car was like having lots of clothes—completely wasted when you spent your entire trip naked in a bedroom with a hot guy.

So she’d attempted a taxi from the airport…once. Wyatt, who had barely tolerated the rental car, had found her taking public transportation to be some sort of personal affront, though she still wasn’t sure why. Hence, the chauffeur pickup.

“I like the divider in this car.” Wyatt loosened his tie.

“The divider?” She instinctively glanced over his head. The solid black glass was already in place, separating them from Sal.

“I knew I’d take one look at you and want to fuck you. Even if Sal could see us. Figured the divider might come in handy.”

She shifted, the subtle movement of the powerful car vibrating under her legs. “So when you told me to get in your car and take off my clothes…”

“You’re in my car. Now take off your clothes.”

She ran her finger along the hem of her skirt. “But we’re going to the hotel.”

“You are.” He glanced at the gold watch on his thick wrist. “I have exactly enough time to take the edge off. Sal will drop me off at my next meeting. Now take off your clothes.”

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

“I don’t need to sweet-talk my girlfriend. Do I?”

Oh, she loved that. She especially loved that he couldn’t quite suppress the tiny jump of delight in his voice every time he said girlfriend. She wasn’t the only uncool one in this relationship. “You always have to sweet-talk me.”

“Fine.” He leaned back, his smile lascivious. “Baby, it’s a felony for a woman to look as good as you. But if you want to suck my dick, I’ll get you off with a warning.”

“You are possibly the worst sweet-talker I’ve ever heard.”

Lazily, he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. “My mouth is better suited to other activities. I’ve demonstrated that.”

Those lips capturing her nipples, her clit. Cheeks hollowing with every suck.
Her stomach clenched.
“You have.”

“Take off your clothes. Before I rip them off. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been three weeks.”

“Three weeks is too long.”

This had been one of their longer separations. They’d been doing pretty well, all things considered. Since Tatiana’s profession as a jewelry designer was far more portable than Wyatt’s as a casino mogul, she had been able to arrange longer visits to see him. The times when she either needed or wanted to be in San Francisco, Wyatt had flown to visit her on the weekends.

“We video chatted,” she offered weakly.

His dark eyes were locked on hers. “Beating off to you touching yourself is hot, but it’s a poor substitute to what I really want.”

“Are my live sex shows getting poor reviews? I should have known I couldn’t compete with the ones here in town.”

“Oh, I give you two thumbs and a cock up.” He smiled at her giggle. “But I want to touch that pussy. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

The softly spoken demand made her humor vanish. The vibe shifted from playful reunion to darker need. “You know it is…sir.”

His shoulders tensed, the one word ripping into whatever façade of calm he’d managed to don. Just as she’d intended it to.

Wyatt leaned back into the plush seat and gazed at her from beneath heavy lids. His muscular thighs spread open wider, as if to give the thick bulge between them more room.

He knew exactly how to tempt her. She was as desperate for his penis as he was for her pussy.

She slid from the seat to kneel on the floor, the carpet softer than in most other cars. Good. She was vain enough to not want visible rug burn. “Is the divider soundproof?”

“No. You’ll have to be quiet.”

Another woman might roll her eyes, get up, and tell her man to wait, in that case. She wasn’t other women. An illicit thrill shot through her. Oh, the joy of almost discovery.

Undressing for Wyatt hadn’t gotten old, because no matter what order she went in, what article of clothing she removed first, she was confident of his full and lustful attention. Still, she gave the task all due consideration. Should she begin with her skirt this time? No. She’d rather work her way up to the main event. Crossing her arms, she pulled the tank top over her head, revealing the purposefully virginal white lace bra she wore. Since starting to date Wyatt, her investment in white underwear had shot up. Only the fact that he ripped so many of them to pieces kept her lingerie drawers from overflowing.

“The bra, too.”

She obeyed, dragging the straps down her arms with the kind of hesitancy she figured a more innocent woman might display, pushing the cups below her breasts before unhooking the garment. The car went over a pothole, giving her flesh a bit of added jiggle.

Wyatt licked his lips, his hand going to his cock, squeezing it hard through his slacks. “The skirt.”

She had to tear her attention away from the rude rubbing he was giving his dick. Curling her fingers under the hem of her skirt, she pulled it up. Slow. Slow enough that it would torture him, but quick enough that he wouldn’t attack and shove it aside.

Part of the fun was the reveal.

He didn’t disappoint, freezing when her trimmed bush came into view. A low growl sounded in his chest. “Were you bare-ass naked under this skirt for that whole flight?”

“Would that bother you?”

“That anyone could catch a glimpse of your snatch? Hell, yeah.”

“But wearing no panties makes things so much easier.” They were whispering now, quieter than they probably needed to be, lest the driver overhear.

“Things?”

“Like when I start thinking about you. I can reach under that thin little airline blanket and…” She trailed off, opening the lips of her pussy to bare herself to him.

“And what?” His words were still hoarse, but there was cold steel there. Annoyance and lust. The poor guy didn’t know whether to scold or fuck.

The best combination, because then he’d give her both.

She glanced up at him from under her lashes, full of faux coyness, a marked contrast to the way she held her pussy open for his hungry gaze. “You know.”

“I think I do know.” He gave a jerky nod to the seat that ran the length of the car. “Lie down.”

She got up and stretched out, raising her arms above her head. One foot she propped on the seat, the other flat on the floor. With her back arched and her legs open, the position was lewd and inviting. Like her. “Is this good?”

He removed his suit jacket and left it folded neatly on the seat next to him. Crawling over, he came to kneel between her legs. “Perfect.” With no warning, his thick finger speared into her. She bit her lip to keep her whimper contained. Yes, three weeks had been too long. Her fingers and toys could never compete with him.